


Captivated

by Feanturi



Series: Phoenix Lights [1]
Category: The Phoenix Incident (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanturi/pseuds/Feanturi
Summary: Jake has nothing to do but think while he waits, so he remembers





	Captivated

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly an exploration of Jake's past to better inform motivations and actions in the movie.  
> There is a scene with an underage Jake **BUT** nothing happens. This is a warning for those who are squicked out.

Jake stares at the ceiling of his holding cell and wonders how long he's been there. If time even passes in this strange bright space, bare of sound and he hasn't seen his captors since the weird _crab_ animals grabbed him from the window. His leg wound has been miraculously healed so their intentions can't be entirely malicious but who could say? Here in this bright white space with no walls, and really no ceiling, no beginning and end all Jake could do is sit and wait, and think. He thinks about his friends, if they survived, if the crabs spared them or if they're in another cell. Maybe that creepy bearded man got to them first, but his memory of that time is woozy with so much blood loss.

Jake's family moved around a lot, so he never really had a lot of friends until they finally settled down in the Phoenix area. He met Mitch, Ryan and Glenn when he started middle school that year. It was so nice, and a little strange, to actually form meaningful connections with his peers. When you move as much as Jake did you really didn't get to know anyone from school or painting lessons, what was the point? You'd be gone and you'd maybe get one letter that was clearly prompted by an adult. Long distance phone calls were too expensive for anything other than maybe a birthday wish, and his parents weren't around much for even that. It wasn't like they were absent, it was just they were both working and there were certain things Jake learned weren't worth it. 

So it was hard to sort out his feelings when he could actually get to know these new friends, their likes dislikes dreams and obsessions as one does in middle school. Jake knew he cared deeply, and like always it showed despite his trying to harden his heart. He knew he loved them, he knew the joy they brought into his life. But what he couldn't know was what the rush of warmth and heat to his cheeks whenever he got to hang out with Mitch alone meant. Because he was a _child_ and those kind of feelings were for _girls_ , cause that's what the VHS they wheeled into the gym said. That's what the TV shows, and the movies, and the radio, the newspaper, the magazines, the comics, fuckin' everything. So Jake must just finally have a real friend, a _best_ friend, and that's just how it feels. It must be normal to catch yourself staring at your best friend when they smile, or when a ray of sunlight peaks through the classroom and lights up undertones of red in his black hair. It must be normal.

But then there was puberty and boys started to fill out into the men they'd become, and Mitch vaulted in height, and that smile would turn wicked at time and Jake's heart would go into 5th gear. And by High School some education provided by the brave souls he met in Theater class and the movies _they'd_ show him. Suddenly there was Some Like It Hot, and late nights at The Rocky Horror Picture show, and while what he felt was suddenly _there_ to be seen, it was also a joke. What he was still wrong, and shouldn't be seen, and "as long as it's kept quiet". Ha ha look at how effeminate these skinny boys were, and the word gay was synonymous with bad. That wasn't the worst word being thrown around, so Jake, filled with shame, would slink away when the other teens would yell their taunts at his actor friends. He'd curse himself a coward and try to be better the next day, all while tossing and turning in his sleep. And when he'd double check that no one was at home, ears always open for the sounds of footsteps, he'd read Oscar Wilde and Walt Whitman, and art books filled with illustrations from Leyendecker; a bastion of celebration and comfort for him. And if he had to wipe the windows down cause they were fogged with condensation that was no one's business but his own. 

If he cried himself to sleep most nights, and prayed to a god he never really believed in, and asked if he could just be normal he'd believe more than _anyone_ ever had, that was also his own business. If he tried to see how many days he could go without calling Mitch, or biking to his house, or later driving him around to the malls and late nights at Denny's, or any other pathetic attempt to gauge what he meant to Mitch, that was his own business. If he got furiously jealous of any of his friends when they started to pair up with the girls in the group, because how come they got to find someone and he didn't? That was his business. Even if it was painfully obvious, probably, I mean why else would no girls be looking his way, right? Or maybe he was just quiet and shy and small, maybe he was making too much out of this. It was all so silly. Silly tears.

Once in a while Mark would return on military leave and Mitch was even less available. He was pleasant enough to be around, mostly kept to himself, understandably not wanting to get involved with teenage nonsense. He always was an interesting preview as to how maybe Mitch would look later. Filled out and _unfair_ with that broad chest and thick arms, but while Mitch was boisterous Mark was quiet and self assured. So when Jake flung himself face down onto the couch, visiting Mitch's home and waiting for Mitch and his parents to return with dinner while Mark stayed behind, he was expecting just another boring hour of mindless TV watching. What he wasn't expecting was Mark to playfully drape himself over his body, "crushing" him into the couch and pinning him in place. He certainly wasn't expecting to feel the ghosting of fingers where his shirt had ridden up, tracing over his hipbones and sending his blood running. Jake tried to keep as still as he could, desperate to not break the moment, to have some kind of contact, to possibly feel wanted. It was so difficult to pretend nothing was going on, it was nearly impossible to hear over the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears, his lungs trying to take in regular amounts of air. What Jake wanted was to pant and push back against the touch, biting into his hand and barely whispering over and over "please" was his compromise. At some point during his body's internal riot Mark had leaned in close to his ear and had asked him something, but Jake hadn't heard any of it and couldn't bear to ask in words to have it repeated. After a moments pause Mark started to pull away and that was *worse* and so he softly whined and tried to subtly push his hips up and back towards that touch, but it was too late. The spell had broken, and whatever vital question that was asked went unanswered. Pressing his burning face into the cushions to hide his frustration, he could finally hear Mark say with _pity_ in his voice, "Oh Jake..." before getting up and walking off to the guest room he was staying in.

If Jake swore, stood and roughly wiped the tears on the backs of his hands, and then walked out and drove himself home in the cold night that too was his own business.

College was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to be who he truly wanted to be, to live his authentic life. He was a young adult in art school in a college town and he was going to have all the fun he denied himself. At least that was the plan. But it turns out it's hard to unlearn an entire childhood of introverted behavior and internalized shame, so it was mostly the same as always. Jake found his friends and had his fun experiences, but when he met Krissy and she returned his advances it was such a relief. Here was someone who's hand he could hold while they walk down the street, someone he could introduce to his parents, and plan a lifetime with! She was sweet and beautiful and Jake was content.

At least he felt he was, even if his dreams were filled with dark hair and looking up into brown eyes, and the scratch of bristles against his face. During one of his visits home he heard about Mitch and Melissa and everything rushed back. Sadness, jealousy, and now resentment that he was burdened with this and wasn't able to just be friends. A particular favorite fantasy Jake had was that he did hear whatever Mark had asked him on that couch. That he turned and answered with all the confidence that age and experience granted, stood up and led Mark by the hand into that guest room and gave him the wildest ride of his life. Loud enough that Mitch could hear, and know what he was missing. A delicious revenge for all the heartache Jake endured. It was petty, but it helped soothe the ache and rage inside him. Then Mark's plane had crashed, and the guilt Jake felt paled against how it tore Mitch apart. Glenn was able to be the shoulder to lean on Jake couldn't be, and Jake retreated further into himself. 

Ultimately it was Krissy who paid the price, unwilling to bear the strain of an emotionless relationship. Jake knew it wasn't fair to her, she deserved to find someone who would love her above all else, and so quietly they divorced. Strangely they seemed to become better friends after that with the pressure of the marriage gone. Jake had even confessed to her his feelings towards Mitch, and men in general, and Krissy smiled and held him as he cried. After a couple more drinks it was decided that the momentous occasion should be marked permanently. Krissy got a band of flowers around her arm, and Jake, well. Krissy had joked that Jake should give "all the boys something nice to look at," and Jake had agreed. The next day sore and hungover Jake couldn't exactly regret the decision, but he was rather embarrassed and protective of it. He moved in with Glenn shortly afterwards.

It wasn't easy exactly, Glenn was still friends with Mitch and Ryan, and it was painfully obvious to everyone in the group that Melissa was seeing them both. But Mitch seemed oblivious or strangely unbothered. Jake long since resigned himself to always having a part of him belong to Mitch, to watch from a distance, never being able to say no to whatever crazy idea Mitch came up with. Jake would studiously avoid the pity in Glenn's eyes when they would hang out together. Things were starting to get better though, Glenn and Carl's stunt footage was starting to pick up attention from event coordinators and ATV companies. Ryan was going to move out to LA and have his music career, and if a nasty little part of Jake's brain hoped he'd take Melissa with him, that was his business.

Then Estrella National Park happened. Mitch had seen the tattoo, Mitch had pressed him closed and leaned in and whispered something in Jake's ear and again Jake just swore and agreed to whatever was said. Then Jake was limping and bleeding and crying and everything was wrong. And now Jake was here, in a cell with no walls, no ceiling, and no end: with only his "what ifs" to keep him warm. For now.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be too sad! There is a fix-it sequel in the works!


End file.
